


Yours And Mine

by Yozora



Category: Heavy Rain
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 15:02:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3614304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yozora/pseuds/Yozora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A clothing mishap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yours And Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Like most things, blame this on my sister, who told me: "I wanna see them accidentally wearing each other's shirts and not noticing until someone points it out. Also pushy Jayden!" So this happened. Thanks, sis! <3

”Anything I can help you with?” Jayden asks as he is, once again, treated to an amused grin and a somehow _knowing_ look by one of the younger officers as he makes his way to the precinct coffee machine.

“Nah, man, it’s cool”, the young officer – Jayden, to his eternal embarrassment, can’t recall his name – grins – if possible – even wider and waves his hand dismissively as he walks away.

Jayden blinks owlishly, feeling somewhat foolish as he is left standing by the coffee machine, staring helplessly after the young cop. _What the hell…?_ He glances at the clock on the precinct wall; it’s not even noon yet, and this is the fifth time he has received some variation of that look, from five different people. A frown taking shape at the corner of his mouth, he chooses his coffee and meanders his way to Blake’s desk.

 

“Hey”, he says as a way of a greeting, parking himself behind Blake’s chair and leaning down to rest his forearms on the edge of it.

“What’s up, FBI?” Blake asks back, fingers barely halting in their typing. Peering over the older lieutenant’s shoulder at the document on the screen, Jayden can see that it appears to be a report of one of their earlier excursions to a crime scene, but he’s only paying minimal attention.

“I’m not sure, actually”, he answers honestly, grinning briefly at the nickname despite being fairly used to it by now, before speaking again, almost into his coffee cup, his voice pitched low. “I think… I’ve been getting these weird looks all morning.”

Blake lets out a scoff of a laugh at that. “And?”

“ _And_ I can’t figure out why.”

“Maybe it’s the come on your face.”

For a moment Jayden stands in stunned silence, a slightly horrified look stealing over his features before the unrepentantly assholeish grin on the lieutenant’s face registers in his mind. “Ass”, he grumbles, shoving his weight against Blake’s chair, though mindful not to spill his coffee over the both of them.

Blake chuckles again, fingers stilling over the keyboard as he leans back to give Jayden _a look_. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with—?” he asks teasingly while lifting his hand to press his fingers sneakily inside the young agent’s dress shirt collar, against the skin of his neck, over the dark bruise of a love bite they both know is there.

“ _No_ ”, Jayden huffs as he twists away a little, swatting at Blake’s hand. “It’s not that visible, I made sure of it.”

“Don’t see why you bother, really”, Blake shrugs nonchalantly with one shoulder while aiming a wink and a downright dirty raised eyebrow at the agent, hand lingering meaningfully on his neck, fingers brushing little teasing circles.

Jayden rolls his eyes at that – trust Blake to be the type to find pride in having his _partner_ walk around so clearly marked. “I take it that you haven’t gotten any of these looks, then?”

Blake shrugs again. “A few, maybe. Don’t know, I don’t give a shit enough to notice.”

Jayden lets out a frustrated sigh. He has a nagging feeling at the back of his skull that he’s missing something important, something that should be painfully obvious. He hates that feeling.

“Well, thanks for that, _Carter_ ”, he says mock-acerbically as he pulls himself up and turns to head back to his office, “as usual, you’ve been _a big help._ ”

“Always a pleasure, _Norman_ ”, Blake calls after him, mock-saluting him without even moving his eyes away from the screen.

It takes all of Jayden’s self-control not to flip him off in front of the entire floor of officers.

 

It’s about an hour later, as he’s washing his hands in the restroom, that Ash walks in. From the corner of his eye, Jayden can see the detective giving him that same sort of amused look as he strolls towards the urinal, before calling somewhat snidely over his shoulder: “Nice shirt, Jayden. Gotta say, though, I’m more used to seeing it on Blake.”

Jayden’s head snaps up from where he’s been rinsing his hands in the sink to stare at first at back of Ash’s head through the mirror, and then at the shirt he’s wearing, his eyes widening in shock as he realizes what Ash is talking about.

Suddenly, all those looks _finally_ make sense.

“ _Fuck_ ”, he mutters empathically under his breath before he all but storms out of the restroom, wiping his still-wet hands on his trousers.

 

“Blake, I need to see you in my office”, he announces without preamble as he comes to a stop at the lieutenant’s desk, voice urgent and insistent although he is fighting to keep it as level as possible.

“What the hell, Jayden? Kinda busy here”, Blake says, attention glued to his computer screen, but lifting a dubious eyebrow at the agent’s demanding tone.

Feeling heat rise to his cheeks, Jayden bends down to lean on Blake’s desk, sticking himself in his partner’s field of vision as he says forcefully in a hissing not-quite-whisper, “Blake. My office. _NOW._ ”

There is a brief flicker of surprise on Blake’s face at the agent’s uncharacteristically pushy behaviour, warring with the annoyed frown settling between his eyebrows as he heaves a grumbling sigh while pulling himself out of his chair and following Jayden across the floor.

 

“Alright, _what_?” he demands once the door to the agent’s broom cupboard of an office closes, spreading his arms in an impatient _‘what the hell?’_ gesture.

“My shirt. Give it to me”, Jayden says, arms crossed defensively over his chest in an equally impatient, but infinitely more embarrassed gesture.

“…Say what?” Blake says after a beat of bewildered silence, the frown pulling at his brows deepening and gaining a slightly more suspicious edge. “What the hell are you on, Jayden? I thought we agreed—“

“Jesus Christ, Carter, that’s not— You’re wearing _my shirt_!” Jayden hisses over him, making a jerky head motion towards the item of clothing in question. He’s surprised his face hasn’t burst into flames yet. “And I’m wearing yours.”

Blake stares at him for a moment, then glances down at himself, the frown smoothing from his brow as an incredulous chuckle escapes him. “Bloody _hell_.”

“Yeah”, Jayden hums, a mirroring, carefully amused smile creeping to the corner of his own lips. “Ash pointed it out to me. He’s probably having a field day with it.”

Shaking his head, Blake lets out another laugh. Then, giving Jayden a cocky grin, he moves forward to start unbuttoning his own shirt from the agent’s body, leaning forward to quip against the soft, pink lips, “Look at you. Some agent.”

For a split-second, Jayden’s eyebrows hike up to his hairline at the jab, before, with an airy chuckle, his own hands come up to fist in the fabric of his own shirt on Blake, his breath hitching a little as he pulls himself closer to the older lieutenant’s body and fires back into the non-existent space between their mouths, “Some detective.”


End file.
